All The Night's Magic
by diamondwine
Summary: Bill Weasley finds himself alone after Fred's death; he battles depression and his wife leaves him. He wants to start over again and finds something to ease the pain, but it may not last long enough when his past comes back to haunt him.
1. Chapter 1

I was asked nearly seven months ago to do a story with this pairing by SweetMya5. I am sorry it took me forever and a day to finally get to it, but I started thinking about it the other night and once I sat down to start it, so much inspiration hit me. Here you are…

Song inspiration: Moondance - Van Morrison

_And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush..._

My little brother was gone. As I stood by his open casket, it felt as though the world was ending. It was just a bad dream. It _had_ to be. My wife's hand clutching mine was barely tangible as I sunk into distress. Never again would things be the same. It wasn't his time, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right. It should have been somebody else, why not even me? I was older. It just didn't make sense. I felt the worst for George. It was so wrong to imagine him without Fred, without his other half. When I glanced over at my brother standing as if frozen in time nearly ten feet away, just staring at the casket with a blank expression on his face, the sorrow made me feel that I might explode. He looked wrong standing there by himself. He knew as well as I what was waiting to be seen, but he didn't _want_ to see it. That much was clear. He was still in shock. Fleur's lips were at my chin then, but I kept my eyes on George. He seemed to have become a statue...

"I am _tired_, Bill! I am tired of waiting for you to come back to me!" Fleur screamed at me, making herself visible in front of me where I sat waiting to die in the same armchair I'd been sitting in for what felt like years. Really, it had been a year. I hadn't woken up from my nightmare. I was still in a bad dream, the one where my little brother was gone.

"Do you even _hear_ me?! Do you even _see_ me?" Fleur whispered violently, her eyes narrowing and the tears finally falling out. She muttered something in French, kneeling before me, begging me to acknowledge her.

"I need you back. I need you to come back. I feel like I've been living alone for over a year, Bill Weasley. When are you going to be my husband again? ...do you even see me?" she sobbed, covering her eyes with one shaky hand.

"It's like you died, too," she said under her breath. Something in that line got me, and I snapped.

"What did you say?" I asked in a voice louder than I knew I was capable of without quite yelling. Fleur backed up, surprised. I shoved her back so hard she hit the wall. I stopped and looked at my hands, registering my violent outburst. I saw myself in the window in front of me, my beard grown in, my hair too long and scraggly. I wasn't even sure the man I saw was really me.

"You've gone mad," Fleur said, backing up into the corner, standing slowly.

"No...no, I didn't–"

"Stay away from me, William...this is over! It is _over_!" Fleur screamed, throwing the ring I remembered working so hard for in my face. Where I sat in the Three Broomsticks, recalling this moment, my eyes burnt a bit and I held back tears, followed by my head, and the absinthe burnt my throat next. When I placed the glass back down and looked at my hand, it occurred to me that I was still wearing that ring. I didn't ever take it off, and it had been almost a month since Fleur left me. I took a deep breath and brushed my hand over my hair, which was now shoulder length and freshly cut. I signaled to the bartender and awaited my third drink. I cupped my chin in the palm of my hands and felt the smoothness with my fingers. I was doing my best to get myself back together; I was going to get my wife back, my life back on track. I closed my eyes a moment and thought back to the last time I could remember being with my wife. I remembered her gentle touch, the sandalwood scent that always accompanied her, her sweet nothings in French and broken English as she caressed the scar on my cheek. She still made love to me while I was emotionally nonextant, she tried to keep us alive while I was so dead inside. It had nothing to do with Fleur, I came to understand; it had everything to do with me, and my inability to cope with my brother's death. I had seen my family so little because it hurt to look at George and for him not to be himself. It hurt too much to speak, to breathe, to go on, yet Fleur had tried. She had tried to save me, she even kept me eating, but barely. I never wanted to move or do anything. The lights went on in the pub, as it was finally dark outside. I heard someone sit at the stool beside me and busied myself with my drink.

"Firewhisky, please," a vaguely familiar voice addressed the bartender.

"Right up, miss," he responded. I glanced to my right and found a familiar woman sitting there. She had her eyes closed, her elbows rested on the counter, and was rubbing her temples with her fingers. She looked familiar, but I wasn't sure how. Her dusky skin made it feel a bit less cold in the room, as if she carried some kind of heat. I was just looking at her, borderline drunk, when she opened her eyes and turned to me. Her face and eyes lit up in surprise.

"Bill," she said, "Is that you?"

I just blinked and looked down into my drink.

"That's my name, yes."

"It's me, Angelina," she said, and the bulb flickered above my head as I looked back at her.

"Johnson," I said, smiling slightly for the first time in a long time, "Forgive me; I didn't recognize you."

"What are you doing here?" she asked. The bartender brought her drink and left us to chat.

"Having a drink," I said, lifting it and taking another sip.

"...You don't look so good," she said, slowly pressing her glass to her lips.

"I've been better," I said plainly.

"I haven't seen you since..." she didn't finish her sentence.

"I know," I said, the both of us not needing words to understand. She had been at Fred's funeral. I remembered her crying, Katie, and Alicia, Cho, and the rest of them. It was all too vivid and I wished it weren't. I sighed and shrugged.

"Well, here we are," I said. She was quiet for a while, looking at me a bit.

"You know, I know I'm probably totally out of place to say this, or even think it, but you look really nice," I said, not knowing where it was even coming from. All I knew was that Angelina had dated my little brother and that she'd been on the Quidditch team with the two of them. She was dressed like a Muggle, I realized, looking down at her legs where she crossed them in a black, formfitting pencil skirt. The heels that must've been on her feet minutes before now sat lazily on the floor. Her toenails were a pale rose colour, popping out in contrast against her skin. She wore a firey red silk blouse and her braids were in a perfect bun almost atop her head. I didn't know if it was the absinthe getting to me or the fact that I was really now looking at her that I started to feel things I hadn't felt in over a year. My face grew heated and I looked away, cursing my pallor for giving away the blood fervently building up in my face. Angelina laughed ever so slightly.

"Oh, this? I've been in New York for a while, working in a Muggle law office. It's really rather interesting, their attire, but thanks," she said, glancing down at herself for a moment.

"Really? That sounds interesting," I said, sitting up straighter. I was feeling good, for the lack of a better word. I hadn't had a real conversation in ages. I was finally responding to human contact. Angelina had turned towards me slightly, engaging in the conversation. I put my glass down, lest I become drunk and ruin this interaction. I'd rather have gone home alone, knowing I hadn't made a bad lasting impression of myself. And as Angelina talked about New York, Fleur started to dissipate from my mind. I really thought what Angelina was doing with her life was fascinating.

"Enough about me," she finally said, "How are you? And I mean that, really. You don't have to sugar coat anything. I know it's been tough. I lost him, too," she said. I felt something warm atop my cold hand. I looked to find Angelina's there. She felt the ring and moved her hand away.

"H-how's Fleur?" she asked.

"Who?" I asked. I'd literally been lost in Angelina's eyes and voice. I knew it then that I found her interesting.

"Your wife, Fleur Delacour. You remember your wife, I hope," Angelina joked. I laughed once and then became very serious.

"I, er," I said, pondering for words, brushing my hand through my hair.

"It's...just that she, well–she–she went back to France. To visit her family for a while," I lied; she had _left_ me.

"Been gone almost a month," I said. Angelina nodded, but something told me she knew more than she led on, as she tilted her head, as if waiting to hear me say more. I shook my head and sighed, letting my face in my palm for a minute before continuing. My eyes were teary when I looked back at Angelina.

"I lied. She couldn't put up with me. I'm sure you've heard–she left me. I don't know, I guess I'd have done the same. I couldn't be her husband, not while I mourned. I'm _still_ mourning. It's not her fault; she tried, but I couldn't...I couldn't be there. It's like I've been dead ever since he died," I said, exhaling. When I looked into Angelina's eyes, I found her wiping them.

"I was waiting for somebody else to say that," she whispered, barely able to speak.

"Excuse me," she said, turning her head to dab her eyes with a napkin.

"No, not at all," I said, finding my hand on her knee, her lovely kneecap. It was smooth and hot to the touch. Angelina looked back at me with slightly wide eyes and paused, just looking at me. She had leant back a bit, her gaze travelling to the ring on that finger. She carefully took my hand, and just had hers atop mine for a few seconds before taking it off slowly.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," she said, closing her eyes as if it pained her to reject me. But the way she had been so slow in moving my hand away said other things to me. It said things that neither of us could possibly have ignored. Angelina looked at me as I pulled the ring off my finger and put it in my pocket. She turned away with even wider eyes, so that she was facing the bar once again. She finished her drink.

"Did you love him?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" she asked, not looking at me.

"You know who I'm talking about," I said with slight impatience.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Do I remind you of him?" I asked. Angelina shook her head, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. I waited almost a damn minute, and she said nothing. I stood up, putting my money on the table, thanking the bartender who came by to take my half empty glass.

"Goodnight, Angelina," I said, turning away. She had closed her eyes again. I stood there, waiting for her to acknowledge me, and couldn't help but with a pang be reminded of Fleur, remember myself staring blankly at the wall while she plead with me to move, to speak, to live. I started toward the door of the Three Broomsticks, and when my hand touched the handle, Angelina's hand touched my shoulder. I stepped out into the street before turning around and disapparating home where I looked down to find her standing there, looking up at me with those deep doe eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Angelina's lips were luscious, and it felt as though she were breathing life into me. I carried her into my house, blindly wandering into the kitchen, slapping the light on hastily, and sitting her on the table top. A glass that had been sitting there for Merlin knows how long fell and shattered to the floor. Angelina gasped and looked down at it.

"Pay no mind," I said, pulling off my coat and shirt. Angelina looked up at me as I pulled at her top. She didn't stop me, but only stared up at me and stood. I found the zip at the back of her skirt and pulled it down, and then she stopped me.

"You're married, Bill," she said, taking a step back.

"She left me," I said, finally, really hearing myself say it this time.

"She left me," I said with a lump in my throat. Angelina became a blur to me as the tears cascaded.

"I'm so sorry," she said, holding me. I fell back into a chair and Angelina just sat in my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck. I sobbed into her neck like a child. She didn't even seem to mind. I hadn't cried like that in a while, not since the night I came home from Fred's funeral. I was letting the pain out again. I don't believe I've ever cried that hard before. Angelina comforted me. I must have sat there clutching her for nearly an hour. When finally I controlled myself, Angelina pulled a dish towel off the table and started to wipe my eyes. I had drank too much. I started to feel sick to my stomach, a mixture of the emotions worsening the feeling. I got up, Angelina tumbling to the floor. I didn't have time to apologize for being so abrupt as I ran over to the sink and threw up. It was like this nearly every week, with the exception that this was the first time I'd cried beforehand. I felt Angelina's hands at my forehead; she was holding my hair back while I was sick. I finished, feeling disgusted that she had to see me looking such a disgrace, and furiously rinsed my mouth out. When I turned around, Angelina was in her shirt again, although it was sloppily untucked outside her skirt. She pressed the dish towel to my mouth and wiped it dry. I just watched her, feeling like a fool.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's okay," Angelina informed me, tucking my hair behind my ear. It felt nice for somebody to touch me, for me to finally notice it. It was different, the way she touched me. Angelina paused and I knew she was looking at the scar.

"A werewolf attacked me," I said.

"Couldn't have stopped him; he was too strong. I have to live with it," I said, opening my eyes again. Angelina was just listening.

"It was Greyback. He attacked me."

"…You're not a—"

"No, I don't turn, thankfully," I said, reassuring Angelina. She had seemed tense when she heard the word "werewolf," but relaxed once I explained to her that I wasn't turning into one on full moons. I sighed, leaning against the counter, pulling my hands through my hair.

"I should probably go," Angelina said, turning round to walk out of the kitchen. I followed her.

"You don't have to," I said a bit pleadingly. She picked up her coat which had fallen on the floor and put it on.

"Angelina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make…a fool of myself," I said, looking down at myself, wishing I hadn't thrown myself at her.

"You didn't. You're lonely. I understand," she said, taking a step towards me, but not close enough that I could have reached out and grabbed her.

"That's why you stopped me? Did you feel badly for me?"

Angelina opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. I got malicious then, almost instinctually.

"_Poor old Bill Weasley_, living alone in his aunt's house because his beautiful wife left his sorry ass," I spat. Angelina's face hardened and she didn't look so sympathetic then.

"Well, I don't need anyone's pity. I've suffered enough. If you were just going to hurt me, you can get out," I snapped. Angelina looked away from me, calming her glare, although something told me she was getting angry.

"I didn't say any of that."

"But you were thinking it, weren't you? I'm not stupid, you know! But you let me take you all the way here," I added. Angelina responded argumentatively.

"You took off your ring in front of me. What was that supposed to mean?"

"I think you'd best bugger off," I said, turning around and walking back to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, hating myself for being so harsh. By the time I turned around, Angelina was gone, as if she'd vanished into thin air. I went back to the kitchen and picked up my shirt from the floor. I put it back on, but then tore it off in a rage, knocking dishes off the counter and watching them shatter on the floor. I shouted furiously and fell to the floor, sobbing. I needed to get a hold of myself. Only a few hours ago, I was thinking about setting things straight, getting my life back on track, yet there I sat, pathetically, alone, a mess…

My life became a blur of drinks and falling asleep on the beach by my house. Many days I'd wake up in wet sand, the waves touching my face with their bitter cold caresses. They were like hands, but nobody's hands. I was miserable. Two weeks must have gone by. I'd find myself falling asleep in the strangest places, often wondering how I got there. I began not to recognize myself again as I glared at the man in the mirror before going out again to drink myself half to death. Then one night I was sitting in Madam Romerta's, nearly blind drunk. I picked a fight with a random bloke, or so I thought he was. I was mad and I just wanted to fight somebody. I was decked to the ground before I got in a good enough punch, and I thought the face looked so familiar but I couldn't quite pin it.

"_Oliver_, you're going to kill him—he's drunk!" that beautiful voice screamed. I felt a pair of hands on my scruffy cheeks and thought I saw doe like eyes before finally blacking out. When I woke up, there was something hot pressed to my head and I _was_ looking up into those familiar doe eyes. It was Angelina Johnson. She held a hot towel to my head. I could hardly see at first for the headache that was causing my head to beat painfully.

"He's awake, thank God," Angelina said. I knew I was in my house; I could tell from the ceiling.

"Well, brilliant, let's go," he said. Angelina glared over at somebody. I lifted my head and saw double for a moment, before my eyes fixed on Oliver Wood. He noticed me looking at him and took a step towards me.

"I didn't even recognize you," he said honestly, shaking his head and looking down at me with wide eyes.

"Why'd you hit me?" he asked, laughing as if it had all been a joke.

"Shh, shh," Angelina said, making me lie back down on the couch.

"Merlin, you're a bloody mess," he said.

"Oliver, that's enough," Angelina said. He sighed and shook his head. I closed my eyes.

"Somebody's got to stay and watch him. You really knocked him out," Angelina complained.

"Alright—I'm sorry! Stay, nurse him back to health," Oliver laughed.

"It's _not funny_," Angelina said.

"Okay, alright," said Oliver seriously. He sighed and I heard his footsteps. I could see that it had gotten darker through my closed lids. I heard a soft noise and opened my eyes a bit to see the underside of Oliver's chin. He was kissing Angelina. I closed my eyes again.

"Alright, I have to get home and sleep. I've got work tomorrow," he said.

"Alright," Angelina said quietly. I heard him kissing her again.

"Bill, I really am sorry. I know you're drunk and you probably won't remember any of this by tomorrow…I'm sorry about Fred…" And then the front door opened and closed, and he was gone. Angelina sighed and stood up, removing the towel which had gone cold, from my forehead.

"I'll be back, just lie down, okay?" she said. I heard Angelina's footsteps as she wandered off to my kitchen. I opened my eyes and sat up, leaning back on the armrest. I swore there was a war raging inside my head. I was nearly sick. I knew I had a problem. I heard the kettle go off and shortly Angelina returned with some tea and a tall glass of water.

"Try and drink this. You'll be dehydrated from all the drinking you've done."

I threw my long legs over the couch, creating space for Angelina to sit down beside me. She placed the drinks on the coffee table and hurried back to the kitchen. She came back with a bag of frozen peas and pressed them to the side of my face where Oliver had punched me. I winced and shied away.

"Oo, sorry, sorry," Angelina said. She gingerly pressed the bag against the bruise again.

"God, Bill, of _all_ the men in that pub to rough up, you _had_ to pick Oliver." Her voice was reprimanding, but I laughed after taking a large gulp of water.

"You look terrible," she said, refusing to find the situation comical.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Bill, this place is a wreck. When was the last time you cleaned?" she asked.

"Do I look like I clean?" I said with some difficulty. The liquor was still in my system. Angelina sighed.

"I wouldn't be able to leave here with a clear conscience knowing that you're living like this. I'll tidy up. And you may want this," she said, producing a bucket with her wand, and in due time as I leant forth to be sick. I felt disgusting then. I didn't even want her to see me.

"Don't look at me," I said, shamefully, feeling her fingers against my forehead, holding my hair back, just like before.

"Shh," she said.

"You don't have to—"

"Yes I do," she said, cutting me off.

"Bill, you haven't seen or spoken to your family in months. I see them nearly every day, and they're worried about you. I couldn't tell them that I ran into you, how poorly you've been doing. They need you. You need to snap out of this. There are better things waiting for you, if you just try—"

"Try what?" I snapped, wiping my mouth on my sleeve.

"I can't…I can't stop this. I've lost my way. I'll never find it back," I said dismally.

"Don't talk like that," Angelina said, wiping my mouth with the warm cloth. I looked over at her.

"Like what? Like I'm not a thirty-year-old loser who lost his wife and job because he couldn't pull himself together?"

Angelina shook her head.

"I'm here now. I can help you. _We_ can help you, Bill. You've got family and friends, and people who _care_ about you. You've been hiding from us all. It's time to stop. Come back," Angelina said. _Come back_, Fleur's voice echoed delicately in my ears, in my memory. My eyes watered and I began to sob.

"Oh, Bill," said Angelina gently. I found myself a weeping mess, my head in her lap. She didn't seem repulsed by me and only sat there, stroking my hair comfortingly, telling me it was going to be okay. I calmed down until I fell asleep. Angelina went about her way cleaning up my house. When I awoke again, it was sundown and I realized I'd slept nearly a full twenty-four hours. I stood up, feeling much better after having been some water. I got off the couch to find that my house was spick and span.

"Angelina?" I called, walking into the kitchen. She wasn't there. I went up to my room, finally noticing the horrible taste in my mouth. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. When I was finished, I got into the shower, throwing my vomit-stained shirt in the hamper. I shaved in front of the mirror when I got out, and found myself looking a bit livelier. I went and got dressed in a fresh shirt and pants. I was about to go downstairs again when I paused in front of the guest room door. It was slightly ajar. I opened it and found that the lamp was on inside. I went in and saw Angelina lying in bed, asleep. Her skirt sat neatly on the chair and her shoes were tidily standing underneath it. I stood there looking down at her. Her braids were sprawled out beneath her head and she looked rather angelic, I thought. I don't know how long I stood there watching her. I didn't even notice myself getting closer.

"Angelina," I whispered. I was reaching out to touch her when the doorbell rang and I jumped slightly. I quietly backed out of the guest room and closed the door gently. I went down the stairs to look through the peephole. I could see Oliver Wood waiting outside in the dark with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. For some reason, I didn't want to open the door at first. But then I heard Ron's voice and pulled it open. Oliver looked surprised to see me looking clean and whole. Ron stepped inside, followed by Harry and Ginny, who threw herself into my arms.

"Why haven't you been around?" she asked me. Ron looked me up and down, staring at my black eye and looking over at Oliver.

"He was drunk," Oliver explained, "my, you've really fixed up," he said, looking around my house.

"No, actually, Angelina did," I informed him. I noticed for the first time that Oliver's lip was busted, and I knew it had been the work of my fist.

"Where is she?" Oliver asked, stepping further into the house.

"Sleeping in the guest room," I said. With that, Oliver went straight upstairs where I'd gestured. I wasn't sure why but I suddenly felt a strong dislike towards him, and it wasn't because he'd punched me.


	3. Chapter 3

Time went by and I just kept getting better. I started working at the Ministry again working as a Curse Breaker. I was welcomed back very warmly, and knew I was on the brink of a promotion to Hex development in the new Intelligence department of the Ministry. Angelina stopped by a few times a week to help me cook dinner, something I wasn't very good at in general. It began to occur to me just how hard Fleur had been working to keep me together. Angelina was a saint; she was an ear to listen to anything I wanted to say at the end of a long day, she went out of her way to make sure I wasn't regressing into my old ways, I stopped going to the bar, and gradually I felt better. I even started going back to the Burrow on Sundays for family dinner. Ron had moved out and was living with Hermione, and Ginny and Harry announced their engagement. Mum was ecstatic at this news. I could hardly believe it, all the things that had happened within the past year. It felt like I'd been detached for far longer. One Sunday, Oliver and Angelina joined me at the Burrow for dinner. It was nice to hear her talk about her work in the Muggle world. She was working her way up the ranks in law and decided she wanted to become a lawyer.

"Won't that take years of schooling?" Oliver asked between bites of mashed potatoes.

"Sure, but in the long run, think of all the good I'll be doing. Being a lawyer is a top notch job in the Muggle world, particularly in New York. I've already been making good impressions with my coworkers. They've promoted me and are even offering to help me go to Harvard for to start." Oliver took a sip of wine.

"Wow. Why am I just now hearing about this?" he asked. Something told me he was a bit put off by the news. Angelina shrugged and grinned.

"It's just something I've been thinking about," she said, but I had the advantage, I realised, as she'd already told me about her entire plan. I thought it was a good idea, and perhaps a breath of fresh air to do something outside of magic.

"Well, I think it sounds like a plan," said Arthur, grinning.

"How long have you two been living in Swansea?" Molly went on. I thought I saw George roll his eyes, and wondered if he was as bothered as I was by the conversation which took its turn toward Angelina and Oliver's relationship. Oliver smiled, looking over at Angelina.

"About two months now," he said as she finished her plate and wiped her mouth, complimenting my mother's cooking. Hermione wiped a bit of gravy off of Ron's mouth. He always was a messy eater.

"Well, that was just amazing, Molly. Really. I think you'd get a lot of business opening your own restaurant."

"Well, that's so sweet of you, Angelina! My goodness, no one's ever told me that before," said mum, laughing, pressing her hand to her chest. She smiled, looking very happy.

"You are such a dear, Angelina," she said.

"I'm serious, too!" Angelina added. Mum pointed her wand at the empty plates and they made their way into the sink. George made an effort to speak, talking about re-opening his and Fred's joke shop. Everyone was very supportive of him. Mum started talking about Harry and Ginny making their wedding plans and it hit me then that I was the only one sitting there no longer romantically involved, aside from George, who was clearly not thinking the most about starting a family at the present. When I stepped outside to go home, Angelina and Oliver were over near the marsh. I overheard Oliver going on and on about Angelina trying to go to law school and starting her Muggle education.

"I just—I think you're going _too _far _too_ soon. You're a _witch_, Angelina, not a Muggle! You'll have to start all over as an undergraduate before you can even _go_ to law school. Imagine how long it's going to take, huh? We've all barely finished with our magical educations, why run overseas just to spend _years_ starting all over? Never mind it's not even magic you'll be practicing," he said, throwing his hands up into the air. Neither Oliver nor Angelina could really see me from where they were standing. I eyed the full moon above them, and was oddly reminded of a Tarot card I'd once seen in Divination. It seemed some sort of luminous foreboding. Angelina threw her hands up as well and I wasn't sure she was doing this to mimic Oliver, but she started in on him as he had on her.

"Wait, so now my boyfriend is trying to tell me how to live my own life? Excuse me while I make sure to grab a quill and take notes."

"I'm just saying I think this is huge. Why didn't you tell me first? Why'd I have to find out like that? What, you thought you'd just up and leave and relocate and that I'd just go along with it all? What about us? That's going to be time, Angelina. That's going to be _distance_—"

"Those are things we can work on! You're making it sound like there's no way to balance our lifestyles," she said.

"_There isn't_ when you plan on starting your _entire_ education all over again! You'll be focused on _school_, Angelina. What else could you _possibly_ have time for? Of _all_ the Muggle professions to choose, you had to pick something that changes your whole life. You're not going to have time for a relationship, let alone a social life. A _lawyer_, Angelina, not a secretary, not an artist, not a gardener, not a teacher—what about my Quidditch? Huh, you know we've already talked about this. You gave it up, your dream, because you were afraid of losing. I _never_ lose. You were going to follow me around the world, baby, we were going to drown in success—"

"_Your_ success, Oliver! What about mine? And just so you bloody know, I chose to stop playing Quidditch because no one is guaranteed a lifetime of wins! I didn't want to play into my thirties, then stop due to injuries, like many witches before me. You know what, no. I'm not talking about this any further. Let's just go home and go to bed."

"Hang on, I was just trying to _talk_," Oliver said, but at that moment, Angelina disapparated. He sighed and was soon gone after her.

The following evening I came home from work to find Angelina waiting at my doorstep. She stood up, smiling. She had a container in her hand, and I knew it was food.

"Your mum made you extra last night. You forgot to take it home. I stopped by the Burrow for lunch earlier today and she asked if I would send it your way," she explained. I smiled and laughed, reaching for my key.

"Thank you, Angie," I said, and I really meant it.

"Er, is there anything you'd like to eat for dinner? I could cook really quickly, if you'd like. Oliver's not going to be home until late so I won't worry about dinner for anyone else."

"Oh, you don't have to, Angelina," I said, but she took a step over my threshold and her doe eyes could not have been denied.

"But if it makes you feel better, be my guest," I said, closing the door after her.

"Feel better? What made you think I was feeling badly?" she asked, taking off her coat. I immediately grabbed it to place on the hook chivalrously and she thanked me. I scratched the back of my head, not wanting to let on that I'd witnessed her and Oliver's fight.

"Oh, er, I didn't mean anything by it. Maybe just so you won't worry about me setting my kitchen on fire tonight." Angelina laughed.

"You're funny, Bill," she said. I followed her into my kitchen and refrigerated the container of food my mother had sent.

"Mum was really surprised by your idea. D'you really think she should open a restaurant?"

"Bill, I meant it! The woman can cook. Just think of it; Molly's," she said, with starry eyes.

"Right next to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," she said. I smiled, this warm feeling in my chest.

"Sounds like a plan," I said. Angelina's smile faded as she began washing her hands at the sink.

"Sounds like a plan," she said, and I was reminded of what my father had said about Angelina's plan to become a lawyer. I knew Oliver disagreed, and I knew Angelina was upset. But I didn't pry at her, figuring she'd tell me if she wanted to. She produced eggplants from the fridge and said she was going to make eggplant parmesan. Never having tried this before, I was excited, sitting at the counter to watch.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked. Angelina shook her head.

"I like keeping my hands busy. Besides, wouldn't want you setting the stove on fire like the _last _time," she said, grinning. I felt myself blush. It was silent for a moment.

"Uhm…I stopped drinking," I said. Angelina paused and looked up at me.

"Bill, I'm proud of you. Good man. I don't know what else to say other than you're really starting to turn around. I'm glad. See? I told you everything would turn out alright."

I nodded, hopping out of my seat so I was standing near Angelina. She started humming.

"Heard from Fleur at all?" she asked me out of the blue. I placed my hands on the counter top where Angelina could see them. She stole a glance to find that I wasn't wearing the ring. I'd stopped wearing it when I decided I'd stop drinking. I had started to resent my wife a bit. We were still married and I hadn't seen her in four months; she had to have understood how difficult the past year had been for me, the loss of friends and family, the pain. In a way, as I spent nights awake thinking about her and wondering what she was doing with her life, it seemed she'd barely been affected. Her family wasn't in the war at Hogwarts. She hadn't lost anyone close to her. And yet she abandoned me when I needed her most.

"Bill?" Angelina finally said. I felt her hand on mine.

"Are you alright? You look like you're ready to kill someone," Angelina said. I immediately snapped out of my thoughts, replacing my hardened expression with a smile.

"No, I haven't seen her. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about her, Angie."

Angelina took the eggplant she had prepared and brought it to the oven.

"Thank you so much for cooking, again," I said.

"Anything for a friend," she said, wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing. She took it off and proceeded to clean up the items she'd used, at which point I started to help her. She sighed, and opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. We both dried our hands on dish towels. Angelina made busy making tea next. She sighed again and was standing at the sink, staring out the kitchen window.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. Angelina sighed again.

"It's…it's Oliver," she said. And finally she was telling me.

"I dunno. It's just an argument we had," she said.

"No big deal," she said, brushing it off and not saying anymore.

"I'm sorry to bother you with it. You don't need to hear my problems. It'll just make you unhappy," she said.

"I wouldn't be," I said, standing directly behind her. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she turned round slowly.

"Angie, I'm your friend. You can talk to me, and I'll listen." She stood there a few moments and then turned around and her face was buried in my chest. She was crying quietly.

"He doesn't understand! How can you just live your whole life with merely what you know? What about new experiences? What about adventures?" she asked, looking up at me, "Self-discovery? I realized, ever since I started working at that Muggle law office, and especially since I ran into you, that I like helping others. It makes me feel complete, Bill. Oliver doesn't get it. He just wants me to spend my whole life going where he goes, enjoying his success. There's nothing wrong with that, but I think he doesn't see that _I_ have goals and dreams, too. What I think really bothers him is that mine stray outside of magic…he doesn't understand."

"I hear everything you're saying, Angelina. I think it's a great idea. You'd be doing your own sort of magic, righting wrongs, saving the innocent…how could anyone disagree with that?"

"You see? You get me. Everyone else seems to get me, but not Oliver," she said, shaking her head. She backed away from me a bit. She just looked at me and then moved over to the oven to check the eggplant, which was starting to smell delicious. Angelina and I sat with tea to wait for the eggplant to finish cooking, during which time I told her about my promotion at work. We could have talked forever, it seemed. Angelina ate with me, and then checked her watch and gasped. It was eleven at night. I couldn't believe how much time had passed, and neither could she.

"Bill, I've got to go. I've got to go. I've got this presentation at work tomorrow and I need to prep for it," she explained.

"Oh, that's alright," I said, though I was a bit disappointed that she was leaving.

"Make sure you refrigerate what's left so you can reheat it tomorrow for lunch." I followed her into the den and to the front door. She hastily threw her coat on and picked up her bag. I opened the door for her and she rushed out. I was about to close it, and she rushed back in and gave me a big hug.

"Thank you for listening," she said.

"Any time, Angie," I said. And then she was gone. I couldn't have fought the smile on my face if I had wanted to.

Angelina did not come back the rest of the week. I figured she was busy with work. Another week went by and I hadn't seen her. I felt a bit confused, wondering if she'd ever come back. One night it was very windy, and I could just see the waves crashing on the nearby shore. It felt as if my house would have been knocked off its foundations. I went into my kitchen to make a cup of tea. I sat down on the couch and opened the new curse book I'd recently purchased at Flourish & Blotts. The kettle went off shortly and I rushed back into the kitchen and pulled a cup from the cabinet. As I made my drink, I realized that this had been Fleur's favourite cup. I hadn't seen it in a while, and as I carried my tea back into the den, she started to invade my thoughts. The wind howled against the windows and reminded me of screaming. I sat on the couch and put the hot mug on the coffee table. I was lost in a memory then, of Fleur and I at the Burrow, the summer air wafting in through my bedroom window. I inhaled and swore I could actually smell her perfume, feel her hands on my face, caressing my cheek, how it was before Greyback…she told me she'd always love me, that we'd be forever. There was a pounding on my door, which knocked me out of my daze. I stood up as it became louder. I rushed to the door and opened it. In rushed the breeze, and a crying Angelina, who immediately buried her face in my chest. I slammed the door shut, locking it lest the wind open it again. It was one in the morning, and I wondered what she was doing here, not that I minded finally seeing her again. Being careful not to move her away at all, I led her to my couch, where she sat down. I placed both hands on her shoulders.

"Angie, what's wrong?" I asked, cupping her face and forcing her to look at me. I began to get nervous, afraid she was hurt or something. I'd never seen her cry like that.

"You're alright," I said comfortingly, "just tell me what's wrong." Angelina took a few deep breaths, placing her hands over her chest, and closing her eyes.

"Oliver cheated on me," she said, "I just found out," she said calmly.

"I've done everything for him, and this is how he repays me," she said, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry," I said. She leant in against my chest, and I just held her there, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"We just had this…this war," she said, explaining the fight.

"At first he tried to deny it, but then came clean. I was _so_ angry. He hurt me," she breathed, wiping her eyes. For a while she just leant in on me, and then she looked up.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I came here," she said, wiping her eyes.

"No, it's perfectly fine. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"I'm sorry. I should've gone to Katie's or Alicia's, even Luna—"

"No, no, no," I said, shaking my head, "I mean it, you're always welcome here," I said. Angelina stopped crying. I picked a few tissues from the box on the table and handed them to her. She blew her nose, excusing herself. I started touching her hair, the braids hanging beautifully past her shoulders. Angelina closed her eyes and turned her face to me. She looked at me and I looked down at her, and neither of us could have stopped what happened next. It had been a long time since I'd felt her kiss. It was better than I remembered. I found her in my lap and my arms wrapped about her waist. After a while, she paused.

"Can I stay here?" she whispered.

"Of course you can," I said.

Angelina smiled and we continued kissing, until things got much too messy for a couch. I stood, taking Angelina in my arms with me. I made it up to my room and into my bed, where I lay her and neither of us stopped, not even as the wind screamed madly at us and the thunder rolled in among the clouds…

When Angelina and I awoke, we just stared at each other. I don't know for how long, but soon I found her smiling, letting her fingers across the scar on my cheek. She kissed my chin and I smiled. I hadn't felt this happy in a long time. I had wanted this all along. I could have pinched myself to see if it was really happening, but if I _was_ lost in a dream, that didn't matter; I was just happy. Angelina sat up and made her way atop me. I ran my hands up her sides. Her body was perfect. I couldn't have taken my eyes away from her as she once again took me inside. I let my head fall back and moaned. She pressed her lips to my neck and I laughed inaudibly at the feeling. When we were finished again, she got up and started to get dressed, pulling my shirt on and walking in her knickers out the door. I followed her to the kitchen where she started to pour a glass of water.

"Bill, I think I've known it for a while now that this was bound to happen. Not with Oliver and I, but you and me, together."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said, pressing her against the counter.

"What is _wrong_ with that man?" I asked no one in particular, tracing Angelina's gorgeous face.

"He must be blind to have gone and cheated on you."

Angelina smiled. It was a Saturday morning. I glanced out the window behind her to find that it was a beautiful day. I even heard birds. An owl flew past my window. It flew past a second time and I could no longer ignore it. I opened the window to find that it carried a note with it. I untied the letter from its leg and it flew away. The envelope was addressed to me. I opened it and it began speaking. Angelina nestled her face into my bare chest as the news told itself. But soon she pulled away from me, staring at the letter in horror. There had been an attack made on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I heard the words "Death Eater" and felt my heart sink. Apparently things were not as safe as people thought after Voldemort's demise. He still had followers and they appeared to be mourning their leader no longer. There had been attacks made against half-blood students, and a life had been taken. The name of the deceased student had not yet been released. Angelina was covering her mouth with both hands at that point. I was just as shocked as she was. The good feelings left us both at this news.

"Bill, my little cousin—she's a half-blood. She's a fourth year," Angelina said, her eyes growing wide with fear.

"Wait a minute, Angie, we don't know much. For all we know, it wasn't her."

"What if it _was_?!" Angelina screamed.

"I have to do something. I need to know now," she said hurriedly, walking past me and hurrying back up to my room. She put her clothes back on and rushed down the stairs. I nearly tripped as I put my pants back on and followed her to the door.

"Angie, wait!" I begged.

"I've got to know," she said with teary eyes, before disapparating and leaving me there by myself. I wasn't sure where exactly she'd gone to, so I didn't follow. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, staring in the mirror with worry. I showered and got dressed. I went down to my kitchen to start making myself a cup of coffee when there was a rather harsh knock on my front door. I thought it might have been Angelina, so I hurried to open it, but when I did so, Oliver stormed inside, looking a bit worried.

"Is Angie here?" he asked me. I had to restrain myself from knocking him to the ground.

"No," I said, crossing my arms, "Why would she be here?"

Oliver's expression changed and he grew argumentative.

"Don't give me that. She cooks for you every week. How can I be sure nothing more has been going on?" he asked, getting closer to me.

"You've got some nerve, Wood. She isn't here. I hardly think what she does is your business anymore, especially after what you've done to her," I said.

Oliver's eyes widened.

"Then I _wasn't_ wrong? She was cheating on me, too," he said, closing his eyes.

"No, she wasn't…look, it isn't like I think you even deserve to know at this point, but she was very upset when she came to me last night. There hadn't been anything going on between us. But now that you've hurt her…she doesn't need your rubbish about becoming a lawyer," I said.

"What? She told you about that before she told me, didn't she?"

"It's almost hard to believe she could ever tell you _anything_, the way you're always going on about your Quidditch tournaments. You never even saw her, saw how good she was. You blew it, Oliver. You threw it all away. It's no one's fault but your own. If you'd have just been there for her—"

"Shut your bloody mouth!" Oliver barked, "You don't know what we were like together. You don't _know_ anything. Where is she?" he demanded.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging, "I think you'd better get out of my house," I said. Oliver backed out slowly and left. The next time I saw Angelina, it was night time. She didn't look upset when she sat down on the couch.

"What happened?" I asked, getting in front of her on the floor.

"My cousin's fine. It's her friend who's not. She was murdered. Bill, they're putting Hogwarts on lockdown. Something is going on."

"Merlin," I said uneasily.

"We can't just do _nothing_!" she said, "We've got to protect those children. They don't deserve any of this. We can't let Death Eater's regain strength. You work at the Ministry. Bring it up. Spread the word. They've got to be stopped. You know how close they were to winning the last time," she said.

"I will," I promised, holding her hands. She cupped my head in her hands. I had planned to tell her that Oliver was looking for her, but decided against it. Angelina kissed my forehead. The next day, she asked me to accompany her to Swansea, where she and Oliver lived. She wanted to get her things while he wasn't there. The house was quiet when we got there and Angelina hurried to collect her belongings. I helped her and within a few hours, she was moved into my house. That Monday I went straight to the Minister of Magic himself and brought up the news of the attack at Hogwarts. Security around Hogwarts was increased and students were under the strictest watch to keep them safe. But the new headmaster, Professor McGonagall, did not let the threat stop the school from running. Angelina started spending less time in New York at the law office, until she wasn't going there at all anymore. She started spending time at Hogwarts and got a gig as a teaching assistant in Defense Against the Dark Arts. All of this happened in the course of a week. I was just glad she got to be near her cousin. It kept her a bit less worried. On Friday night, Angelina and I were enjoying dinner when somebody knocked on the door. I excused myself to answer it and Oliver barged inside unannounced.

"Stop hiding my girlfriend, Weasley. I know she's here," he said, pointing a finger threateningly at me. Before I could make him leave, Angelina was standing there, looking at him.

"Angelina, my god. Why'd you do this? You didn't have to do this," Oliver said, approaching her. He barely made it within two feet of her before she slapped him.

"Okay, I get it; I deserved that, but you didn't have to leave like that. I come home and you're gone. We need to talk," he said, grabbing her wrist.

"No, I don't think there's anything to talk about, Oliver," she said, "I don't fit into your life, and you don't fit into mine. It's as simple as that. Now go. I don't want to see you right now," she said calmly.

"It's not over," Oliver said before walking out the door. Angelina was teary eyed and I comforted her immediately. Some time passed and Angelina began to forget about Oliver. Although I felt unsure he wasn't going to try and come back to win her back. He was sending letters from places he was as he followed his team for Quidditch. I gave Angelina the letters, but she left them unopened on the coffee table. I didn't pry at her about them, thinking she might still want to read them in her own time. It bothered me seeing them there, so I tried my best not to sit on the couch. Angelina had been assigned to chaperone the Yule Ball, and she came home from Hogwarts one night to announce it to me, asking me jokingly to be her date. I acquiesced and soon decided it might be nice. Maybe a dance was just what we needed to take our minds off everything. The night of the dance came, and Angelina and I walked hand in hand to the Great Hall in all its decorative splendor. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione accompanied us and we made it sort of a trip down memory lane. The night progressed and we watched students dance and have fun, keeping tabs on the punch to make sure no one was trying to get their hands on spiked drinks. Hermione was the most enthusiastic about enforcing rules, while Ron kept telling her to relax, reminding her of all the trouble she and Harry wound up in on a daily basis during their time at Hogwarts. It was late in the evening and the dance came to a halt. Students began going off to bed and Angelina excused herself to escort her little cousin to the dormitories. Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and I stayed behind to start tidying up the Great Hall when that familiar wind started up. The candles blew themselves out and an eerie chilling sensation engulfed me. Ron looked around, drawing his wand. A professor was inspecting the sky, wondering why the night seemed so gloomy all of a sudden.

"Harry, what is that?" Ginny asked, looking up into the night. He slowly pulled his wand out and an eerie figure made its way down upon us. Suddenly we were infiltrated by a band of what appeared to be Dementors.

"Expecto patronum!" Ron shouted and Hermione immediately began to cast. I thought about Angelina and rushed out of the Great Hall, retrieving my wand from my robes. Windows began smashing and then I knew that the castle was under attack. I heard wicked laughter and was reminded of Death Eaters, which soon revealed themselves about the castle.

"Angelina!" I called, running to the part of the castle where I remembered the Gryffindor dorms to be concealed. Something knocked me down just as Angie was coming into view. She screamed, running down a staircase. I rolled onto my back in time to see the hideous werewolf towering above me. Those eyes were familiar, as if I could have forgotten Fenrir Greyback's gaze. Right before he could slash me, Angelina cast a spell that sent him flying back. My eyes wide with fear and all the colour leaving my face, I caught my breath. I watched the werewolf tumble to the bottom of the staircase, but he was up again in a split second. I stood and told Angelina to leave, but something intercepted us and she was nearly knocked over the staircase, which moved, causing us to be separated. An unfamiliar looking person landed on the staircase where I was standing, hidden by a Death Eater mask. The stranger pointed their wand at me and a red beam of firey light came toward me.

"Protego!" I shouted and it deflected, hitting the ceiling and rubble came towering down. I looked about for Angelina and saw her lying on the floor several feet below, and that hauntingly tall, scary, wolf like creature stalking towards her. I screamed and realised she had been knocked unconscious. I cast the Killing Cure down at Greyback, who I surmised had found me by no sheer coincidence during this attack. He'd come to finish what he started. He dodged my curse by only a few inches. Somebody laughed and I lost my balance, falling down the staircase a bit. I stood up, shouting for Angelina, but by the time I made it to her, Greyback was retreating into the shadows, a bit of blood dripping after him. I never could have forgotten his voice as he howled, making his way up the staircase. It was as if things were in slow motion by the time I reached Angelina, pulling her shoulder, but not before finding a foot long cut down the back of her dress. She was bleeding onto the floor. I picked her up and was relieved to find that she was far from dead, but she had been bitten, just below her neck, right on the collar bone. I could clearly make out the shape of Greyback's teeth, the impression there now in Angelina's skin. She had been bitten…

In the hospital, they wouldn't let me see her for hours. I sat there worriedly, my brother and sister, as well as Harry and Hermione, trying their best to make me believe it was all going to be okay. But I knew that it wasn't; Angelina had been bitten.

"I'm sure there must be some kind of antidote," Hermione urged.

"Magical medicine is still developing—I wouldn't be worried just yet," she said in an attempt to wipe the worry from my face. I stood up and started pacing.

"This is all your fault!" a familiar voice screamed at me. I turned around in time to be met with Oliver Wood's fist. I fell to the floor, smelling the blood that began to drip from my nose.

"What the bloody hell?! Is that Oliver Wood?" Ron said, running over to restrain him. I blinked up at Wood who was struggling beneath Ron's strong arms.

"If she hadn't been with you, she'd be fine! You've ruined her, Weasley," Oliver said. Eventually he stopped fighting against Ron's death grip and started to cry. I'd stood up to watch him fall to his knees, weeping. In a minute or so, nurses and stranger's began to crowd round him, asking for autographs from the Wizarding World famous Quidditch player. I almost felt badly for him, but then remembered how he was the one who ruined his relationship, not me. The healer finally came out and said I could see Angelina. I hurried into the room to find her lying in bed. She opened her eyes when she heard me. I sat on the bedside and began to cry, grabbing her hand.

"Angelina," I said, barely above a whisper.

"I'm going to change, aren't I?"


	4. Chapter 4

Songs that are inspiration for this chapter: Corpse Master by True Widow and Skin Graph by Silversun Pickups, in case you wanted to hear something while reading, also, I really feel they're appropriate for the mood of the story. I apologize for this having taken me _so_ long. I was finishing up a difficult semester of college, then I came home and just wanted to do absolutely nothing for a few weeks. But I'm back, and I am trying to finish all the stories I left at a standstill. Again, this one was requested by SweetMya5.

I awoke with a start, having believed that the sharp pair of claws pulling deeply across my cheek had been real.

"William?" said a familiar, soft, beautiful, angelic voice, one I hadn't heard in what felt like forever. Fleur looked down upon me with these very vibrant eyes. I was sure I was still dreaming, I dug my nails deeply into my hand to find that it hurt, and that I could not possibly have been more awake if I'd tried to be. I was confused for a moment, wondering why I was seeing my ex-wife in the hospital room where I'd fallen asleep. Her eyes travelled over to Angelina, who was asleep. I followed my gaze down her arms, and soon saw that she was chained to the bed. I wondered just how long I'd been sleeping there. I started to stand up, but fell right back down in my chair when I was met with Fleur's stomach, which shocked me. She was very slender, but the bump there was conspicuous. She crossed her arms, looking down and away for a second. I was shocked beyond words.

"…Fleur, is that—"

"Is she going to be alright?" Fleur interrupted me immediately, ignoring my question, that I knew she knew was in my head.

"It was all over the papers, Bill," said Fleur, her eyes tearing up but never dripping, "I thought Angelina didn't make it, and then when I saw _your_ name, I couldn't—" Fleur turned away from me abruptly. I was hardly focused on what she was saying. I was too fixated on the bump of her stomach.

"I couldn't stay away," she said quietly.

"Where have you been?" I asked, finally standing up.

"You didn't have to leave me," I said, approaching her. I held her shoulder and tried to turn Fleur so that she was facing me, but she shrugged me off and turned further so I couldn't see her. It was a pointless motion, as she knew I'd already seen what she had been hiding.

"I just wanted to see if you…if you were alright," she sighed.

"Is it mine?" I asked flat outright. Fleur whipped around and to my surprise, slapped me. I was facing the wall for a few seconds as she spat something in French, but her voice wasn't very angry; it began breaking and I knew that she was crying. She took a deep breath before starting to speak in English, at which point I faced her again.

"You were in _no_ state to be a father, William," she whispered furiously, glancing back at Angelina who looked just about dead, and my gaze stayed there on Angelina, waiting to watch her exhale. And when she did, I turned back to Fleur, who was dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief. She sighed again before continuing. She shook her head as if to say no while she spoke.

"I don't know what I want to do, Bill…I'm not even sure I want to be mother," she said, but her hands falling against her womb and eyes closing told me otherwise. She looked up at me again.

"I needed attention, William. I needed you to treat me like your wife…I lost hope. I didn't think I was ever going to get you back…I'm sorry that I came here," she said, starting for the door, and I knew she'd seen the way I looked at Angelina.

"I only wanted to see that you were safe," said Fleur. I blocked her exit and stood directly in the door. Fleur closed her eyes and spoke calmly, though I knew there was a fire building up under her cool demeanor.

"Bill…please move."

"_No_." I said, "That's my baby, too. How can you just walk away from me?" I started to feel angry, and sad, and hurt, and so desirous all at once.

"I don't know…I don't know," she said again nonchalantly, "Get out of my way, William, before I call security."

"And let you walk away with my child?" I asked, my voice rising.

"I met someone," said Fleur, looking me dead in the eyes, waiting for me to speak. A minute must have gone by.

"…And he knows you're legally legally married? He knows you're carrying another man's baby?" I asked.

"_Don't_ you try to turn this around on me, you hypocrite," Fleur hissed. As beautiful as the woman was, she could turn ugly in the blink of an eye, the way she was speaking to me, "I _tried_ to be there for you. I _tried_ to make it last. You _ignored_ me. I couldn't stay. I went back home to France, Bill. I met someone. He comforted me, even after I told him the situation. Yes, he knows about you. I didn't even know I only found out about the baby shortly after I met him. But he didn't leave me, in mind or in body," she said, "I don't think I can be a wife anymore. I felt trapped when you changed. It isn't that I'm not sorry for your loss, but I lost you when you lost your brother…now, please move."

I stood like a stone until finally Fleur shoved me.

"What are you going to do about the baby?" I asked. She stopped, but never turned back to look at me.

"Fleur?" I called. And then she walked away quickly. Part of me wanted to run after her, but when I looked back at Angelina, I couldn't bring myself to leave her, either. And then _I _felt trapped.

The Healers wouldn't let me take the chains off of Angelina, despite the fact that she was unconscious. I would constantly be at her side waiting. She had fallen into a comatose, they said. I began to worry that she would never wake up, and as I counted the days, I also wondered about Fleur. Everyone had given me space, it seemed, but on the fifth day that Angelina laid unconscious, Ron and Hermione paid me a visit.

"Bill, _you cannot_ blame yourself for this. None of it's your fault," my younger brother tried to convince me, "There have been many of these attacks, these old followers of Voldemort. The Ministry is tracking them all down, one by one. It won't go on for long, not with the new Minister of Magic in charge."

I shrugged.

"But look what's here," I said, staring down at Angelina. It was getting late and I knew that soon would be the full moon.

"The Healers said they don't think she'll make it. She'll just stay like this…I could have been there—if I had just been faster—"

"Don't," said Hermione, who had taken me by surprise when I felt her hand strongly on mine.

"Don't what, ignore the fact that my wife has disowned me, that the closest thing I've found to comfort since Fred's death is never coming back to me?" I held in a sob, but felt Hermione's arms enclose me. I stood there with my eyes closed.

"…Bill, you can't live like this," Ron went on, "Angie's one of the strongest witches we know. She'll pull through."

"Is that what you know?"

"Look at yourself! Sure, you've lost a lot in the past year or so—but you've still _got _a lot. Come home. Give yourself a break."

I shied away from Ron's hand once Hermione had let me go.

"No, I'm not going to leave her," I said, deciding against telling them that Fleur was pregnant and had come to see me a few days earlier. I had already lost her, too. I knew this. Telling anyone wouldn't have brought her back. The pain I felt was more than anything I'd ever experienced. I didn't know if she would go through with the pregnancy and have my child, raise it with another man, or do away with it all together. She wasn't going to come back. I knew this. Something about the way she'd looked at me when we last spoke just told me so. Ron gave up trying to convince me to go home and rest when Hermione tugged him out of the room. I don't know how, but even with everything on my mind, I managed to fall asleep where I was. I dreamt again, of the horrible night, Angelina's attack. I began to wonder if perhaps it would have just been better for her to have died, instead of live the rest of her life burdened with the fact that she had been bitten, if she ever regained consciousness. I awoke in a cold sweat, and cold it was when I was met with the breeze coming in through the open window. I stood up. Angelina was gone, the hospital bed empty. There were some tears in the covers where she had been lying. With a pang of fear, I hurried over to the open window, which had been shattered clear through. The moon peeked in at me as if to mock me. I was lucky enough not to have suffered Fenrir's bite, but knowing what it had done to Angelina was just as terrible as having suffered it myself. I had no idea where she was, what she was doing, who she might have been killing…if she was found, I knew that there wasn't enough hope. And just as I was turning to run for the hospital door, I found Ron and George standing there, looking as if they'd just seen a ghost. They looked to the bed and saw that Angie wasn't there, and then they looked at me.

"What's going to happen? We've got to find her," George explained. He knew Angelina better than I, having been in the same year with her and Fred, and I never saw him look so scared, except when he learned that Fred was gone.

"How?" I asked frantically, "she escaped."

"Lucky she didn't kill you," Ron explained, "had the pleasantry of seeing Lupin change one time. They lose all sense…like they don't know you anymore. No doubt Angelina's dangerous. A girl like that on the wrong day _without_ being a werewolf—"

"Shut up," George said impatiently, shoving Ron so that he hit the doorway.

"What are we going to do? If she kills anybody, the Ministry will have it out for her," I said, feeling my heart race. I didn't feel so well, and my head made contact with the hard floor…

I heard papers rustling, and the front page of the Daily Prophet was the first thing I saw when I came to. I grabbed the paper from George, who had been rustling through it.

"There's nothing in there about werewolf attacks, thank Merlin," he said immediately, and I threw the paper aside.

"Gave us another scare," he said, motioning towards the hospital bed where I laid.

"It's day time, so she must be human now. Where?" I asked, getting up.

"What are you doing? You can't just go running out—"

"I _need _to find her!" I shouted, rushing out of the door and bumping into my mum who fell on her behind.

"Mother," I said frantically, helping her to her feet. She looked at me in my hospital gown in a daze.

"I was _just _coming to see you," she explained, adjusting her hair, "Ronald said you fainted late last night. But I thought it was Angelina who had been hospitalized," she said.

"She _is_…she was. Mum, she was bitten," I explained. My mother's eyes watered and I just knew she was thinking, what if it had been Ginny?

"Last night was the first full moon since. But she was in a coma. They didn't think she would wake up. I've got to find her. I've got to—"

"This came for you in the mail," said mum, handing me a note, "I'm not sure who sent it, but it was addressed to you." I thought it might be Angelina, letting me know she was alright. I took the envelope from my mother, immediately recognizing the scent of Fleur's perfume on it. But as I looked at the address, I knew the handwriting wasn't hers. I ripped open the letter furiously.

"Mum," said George, walking around me in the hall. He started trying to explain to our mother what had happened, but their voices were drowned out as I read the words of an angry man whom I'd never met, who had thoroughly fallen in love with Fleur. It came to my attention that Fleur was no longer alive. She'd suffered from complications with the baby, the day before she was scheduled to abort it. I fell back against the wall, sure I would be sick and possibly faint again. I ended up spending a few days in the hospital. Angelina had been reported as a missing patient, possibly dangerous. I grew more worried as the days carried on. When I was finally let out of hospital, all I wanted was to be left alone. I started losing hope of finding Angelina. Oliver Wood went out of his way to show up at my doorstep and blame me for Angelina's disappearance. I saved myself the pain of fighting with him and shut the door in his face. He stayed outside, banging on my door, yelling at me. I thought he had no right to be angry with me, not after all he'd put her through in their relationship. He could only have blamed himself for how it ended, but I knew damn well I shouldn't have been the one to blame for what had happened to Angelina. It wasn't until the night before the next full moon that I saw Angelina again. I was sitting in the dark in the den of my house, drinking firewhiskey. I had made it a point to drink myself into a stupor, until I was no longer able to function. I aimed not to survive. I had finally hit rock bottom. I didn't want to keep living in so much pain. But I swore as I finished half of my first bottle out of the many I'd set down in front of me that I heard a noise at my front door. It sounded as if someone was trying to get in. Had I forgotten to lock it? No, I never did. The only other person who'd known where the extra key was hidden had been Fleur…and Angelina. I stood up, pulling my wand out of my pocket. I knew it couldn't have been Fleur, but still I wondered if perhaps Greyback had returned to finish me off or turn me like he'd done to Angelina. Surely, if it was Greyback, I would put him out of his misery before I put myself out of mine. I stepped slowly in the dark towards the door. When it finally opened, the light of the moon revealed Angelina, who stared at me in utter shock. I was so surprised that I dropped my wand.

"…I didn't expect to see you here," she said quietly, as if she was coming home from work on any other casual day before all of the madness occurred.

"Where have you been?" I asked, approaching her. She backed up into the doorway, standing outside of it. She looked at me in a warning way that caused me to stop, and under the light of the near full moon, I saw this glimmer in her eyes, an unnatural shine that she hadn't before possessed. It wasn't the same Angelina I'd known.

"Angie…?"

"I didn't think you'd still be here…I thought you'd be with your family. Didn't you think I'd disappeared? Didn't you give up?" she asked. I took another step.

"Don't, Bill," she said.

I paused, "I thought you weren't coming back, that maybe you didn't _want _to…So, why did you come here? Where did you go?" I was full of questions.

"I didn't want to hurt you," she finally said after a moment of silence.

"I felt bloodthirsty, Bill. The moment that I woke up, I had already started changing. Before I lost my will and my mind, I _had_ to get away from the people I care about. I didn't want to hurt anyone, especially not after Fleur saw you," Angelina said. She had backed so far out of the door that her face was mostly hidden.

"What? Angelina, you were in a coma…how could you have known?"

She shook her head.

"I wasn't unconscious, at least not completely. I could still hear things…she left you for another man. She was pregnant with your child. I thought that if I woke up, it wouldn't have mattered, she would have taken precedence over me. I wouldn't have wanted you to leave your own child if there was a possibility that she would have it, even for me."

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter now, Angie…Fleur's dead. She passed away shortly after she came to see me. I haven't got much to lose now, have I?" I asked, "It wasn't Fleur I wanted, anyway. How could you not know that?"

"…I didn't know what to believe."

"Let me see you," I said at last, feeling tantalized. I went forward quickly and grabbed Angelina's arms. She gasped and I looked down into her eyes. They weren't human, that much was true.

"Bite me," I asked desperately. I couldn't have continued living without Angelina at that point, not when I was so close to getting her back again.

"Are you mad?"

"I've never felt more sane, Angelina. It's the only way—please. I've already lost enough. I want to be with you, and nobody else."

"You have _no_ idea what you're asking me," she said warningly again. I kissed her for what felt like an eternity, and when I pulled away, I was afraid she'd still leave me.

"Don't tell me you came back here for nothing," I whispered. Angelina paused. She finally reached for the collar of my shirt and began pulling it down, looking at me warily all the while. I stared up over the horizon where the breeze from the sea brought a briny smell to my nose. It couldn't have looked more peaceful; it didn't even hurt when I felt her teeth on my bare neck. Angelina took me with her.


End file.
